Kael woke in the small, dimly lit apothecary room Liora had prepared, his armor removed and replaced by simple robes. He felt weak, but alive—a miracle he could scarcely comprehend.
"Your wound… it's unlike anything I've ever healed," Kael murmured, his hand brushing the edge of the bandage. "I can feel… something inside me. Something strange."
Liora's heart twisted at his words. "It's a curse," she admitted softly. "Something celestial touched your soul before you fell. If I had not been here… you wouldn't have survived the impact."
Kael frowned. "Celestial? You mean… you?"
She shook her head. "I'm not… supposed to interfere. But I couldn't let you die." Her eyes flicked toward the window, where the spires of the upper city glimmered against the night sky. "The Archons are strict. Mortals aren't allowed here, and neither are… people like me."
He struggled to sit upright. "Then why save me?"
"Because… I felt you," she whispered, barely audible. "Somehow, your soul called to mine."
For the first time since he arrived, Kael looked at her without confusion. "I've heard of prophecies," he said quietly. "Of mortals chosen to change the world. And I… I think I am one of them. But now, I think the prophecy involves you too."
Liora's pulse quickened. She had heard the whispers—the Starbond prophecy—but she had never imagined it would touch her life so directly. A mortal and a fallen celestial, bound together. The notion should have terrified her, yet a warmth spread through her chest, unbidden and undeniable.
Before she could respond, a ripple of energy shook the air. The ward barriers of the upper city flickered, and a chill ran down her spine. The Archons were aware. Someone had sensed the disturbance she had caused.
Kael noticed it too, his hand gripping hers. "We don't have much time, do we?"
"No," Liora admitted. "And if they come…" Her gaze hardened. "…we must be ready."